


do you want me? (or do you want me dead?)

by averagefaces



Category: 2PM (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 12:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averagefaces/pseuds/averagefaces
Summary: "i don't like him," wooyoung says, taking the controller again and kicking at junho's leg. "not like that. he doesn'tlikeme and definitely not likethat."





	do you want me? (or do you want me dead?)

**Author's Note:**

> published january 2014. revised march 2017. reposted december 2018. this is a work of fiction, no harm intended to any parties involved. please do not repost/copy or translate without permission. thank you for reading!

wooyoung should've known his plan to survive the rest of the semester relatively unscathed would fail the moment nichkhun horvej-whatever walked through the door and the professor asked them all to be nice to the new kid or so help him god he'd fail their asses so hard they'd be thirty by the time they'd be allowed to graduate.

wooyoung took the threat to heart.

(he supposes this is how great romances begin.)

-

"and this is junho," wooyoung finishes lamely, waving a hand at where junho is slouched over his seat, drinking from a box of apple juice. "he's a sophomore but he's okay."

"right," nichkhun says tightly, and holds his tray of cafeteria food closer to his body as if anyone in their right mind would try to steal it from him. wooyoung is nice enough not to point out it's _cafeteria food_. which, _ew_.

"welcome to the club," junho smiles from his seat, and nichkhun frowns at him. it's no wonder, really, sometimes junho is a bit weird with his words.

"thank you," nichkhun says. wooyoung watches him put the tray down, pull the chair and sit on it, ready to eat.

"are you sure you wanna eat that?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at the soggy tofu on nichkhun's plate.

nichkhun eyes it warily, tilts his chin up, and says, "yes, i am."

-

by the end of the semester, they're _acquaintances_. nichkhun is—thankfully—into soccer and wooyoung makes him—no, _asks_ him to go to try-outs and see if maybe he likes it. which nichkhun does judging by how coach is fanning over him at the end of the period. so this is how they become team mates, added to classmates and lab partners for biology _and_ chemistry. to top it all, mr. park assigns them both the same reading for world history, which technically means they'll have to swap papers at some point.

wooyoung is cool with this, though. nichkhun _seems_ nice, even when he's rolling his eyes at _everything_ wooyoung says.

"look," wooyoung says once after practice (where coach had made them both run suicides because nichkhun wouldn't pass the freaking ball to wooyoung and apparently that's also wooyoung's fault, which, _no, it is not_ , wooyoung's the nice once here, he's team captain, damn it!), "i know you don't like me and you're not precisely the best to get along with, but i'm willing to make it work if you are."

nichkhun furrows his brows, his cheeks blotched in pink from all the running. wooyoung musn't look much better, either.

"i am your _captain_ and in there," wooyoung says, pointing at the door of the locker room, which leads straight into the field, "we're _a team_ and you're _supposed to_ pass the ball, _even_ if you'd rather chuck it at my head. are we clear?"

"it's not like that," nichkhun says, and tilts his chin up _again_ and wooyoung's not stupid, he's shared two weeks with nichkhun already and this whole i-tilt-my-chin-up-because-i'm-a-hard-stubborn-fucker is really old news.

"whatever," wooyoung says, and rolls his eyes, heading for his locker to get his stuff. might as well leave now and be sweaty for the thirty minute walk home than be naked in the showers with nichkhun around. awkward wouldn't even begin to cover that.

nichkhun huffs indignantly as wooyoung gathers his things, and doesn't move as wooyoung heads for the door, which is, coincidentally, behind nichkhun.

"believe it or not," he says around a sigh, and why is wooyoung the only one who tries? "i'm trying to help you here. that attitude won't lead to many memorable friendships."

nichkhun looks away first, his hands tugging at his shirt as he makes it to the showers, and wooyoung doesn't look back as he closes the door.

-

"he doesn't like me," wooyoung mumbles around a mouthful of fries, frowning at junho. "why would i ask if he wants to hang out? he clearly doesn't."

the diner is loud with chatter, most kids hanging around after class on a friday afternoon. wooyoung is having a celebratory burger while junho cuts through his pie with scary precision. no wonder he wants to be a surgeon, at least he's got the _hands_.

"he's new, man, it's only been, what? three weeks? he's not supposed to like anyone yet, not even the friendly ones." junho reaches for a fry and wooyoung slaps his hand away. "ow, bitch. doesn't mean you have to stop being nice, jesus."

"he'll be all pouty and will frown and roll his eyes at everything i say!" wooyoung defends himself.

"i do that all the time, you should be used to that by now," junho grins.

wooyoung narrows his eyes, picks a stray fry and flings it at junho's face. "fuck you."

"by all means— _oh_ ," junho says, clapping hands over his pie as he waggles his eyebrows, " _maybe_ he wants in your pants. wouldn't blame him, really, wooyoung, you're _hot_. everyone wants a piece of _that_."

the handful of fries wooyoung throws across the table gets them kicked out of the diner, mrs. jung shaking her head at them and wondering what is wrong with kids these days out loud. wooyoung would like to know the answer to that, too.

-

it's probably a bad idea to go to taecyeon's party and get as many beers as he does, because 1) season hasn't ended yet and coach will _know_ , and b) it's friday and he's got early—as in _8am_ early—practice tomorrow and _coach will know_.

it is safe to say wooyoung is pretty scared of coach, okay.

it is also safe to say wooyoung is way on his way to fucked because there are _two_ nichkhuns frowning at him upside down—which, _weird_ , or maybe not so weird and nichkhun is actually an alien and wooyoung's been right all along and now junho owes him twenty bucks, fuck yeah!

"i'm not an alien," nichkhun deadpans as wooyoung feels hands tugging at his arms and, oh, look, he's standing upright.

"you could be," he says. slurs. semantics.

"of course," nichkhun concedes, and wooyoung notices they're moving—or maybe they're standing still and everything around them is moving. wooyoung's legs move by their own and when he comes back to it, he's sort of reclined against something hard that smells like plaster and his arms feel horribly cold.

he's outside. oh fuck he's _outside_ , _how_ is he going to find his way _inside_ now?! is this how babies feel when they leave the womb? feels like it, but it also feels _gross_ and there is no way— _no way_ he's going to try to find his way back into the womb, fuck _no_.

"man, you're gone," a voice says from beside him, and it's a familiar voice, new but familiar.

"m'cold," wooyoung manages to get out, and soon enough there's a jacket thrown over him, and he sincerely hopes it's his because his phone and wallet are in his jacket's pockets and _now is not the time to freak out_.

"i take it you're gonna miss practice tomorrow?" the same voice asks, and wooyoung has to put heart, mind and soul into cracking one of his eyes open and get a look at this guy who's not letting him _lose consciousness in peace_.

god damn it, can't anybody pass out quietly?!

and of course he can't—that frown would sober anyone up. but not wooyoung.

"what're you doing here?" he says. mumbles. whatever.

nichkhun shrugs under his own jacket, wooyoung thankfully notices. they're not friendly enough to share a jacket, nope. "i live next door. taec invited me."

"always nice, that taec," wooyoung say—alright, slurs.

"yeah, he's alright," nichkhun nods, and wooyoung has to sit up at that— _wrong idea, wrong idea_ —so he can look at this… this human being straight in the eye. or, like, straight up a nostril, wooyoung's having a bit of a hard time trying to find nichkhun's eyes in his face because his eyebrows take up _so much space, holy god_. also, his face is _tiny_.

"so he's _alright_ , huh," he accuses, "right, yeah, he's alright 'cause he invites you to _parties_ , right, and since i don't, i'm not nice, is that it?"

he huffs before nichkhun gets a chance to reply, and slouches back against the wall, his cheek against the cool surface and, _mmm, nice_.

there's silence for a while, blissful silence, and then it's broken—again!—by nichkhun. except that this time there are no disdainful words coming out of that mouth— _god_ , that mouth—but just a cackle and an, "oh my god."

wooyoung blinks sleepily and cracks his eyes open again to look at nichkhun. _try_ to look at nichkhun. "the fuck you laughing about?" he asks.

"you _are_ nice, dude, i swear you are."

nichkhun's doubled over his thighs, head in between his knees. wooyoung takes some time to look around and find someone because what if nichkhun's gone crazy and is going to kill him now, but they're alone. they're sitting on the steps leading to taecyeon's backyard and no wonder it's cold, it's raining a little. so that wasn't alcohol whooshing in wooyoung's ears, it was actual water falling from the sky. huh.

"then why are you always such a dick to me?" there's a 30% chance it's already raining and that wooyoung's voice came out all whiny and petulant.

"because it's fun?" nichkhun wrinkles his nose, except he's smiling too and wooyoung had never seen him smile this big. makes him wonder if he needs to get drunk more often just to see nichkhun smile. for the shortest of moments, wooyoung feels nichkhun nudge his elbow against his, and then it's gone."dunno, you make it easy."

"i make it easy to be mean to me?" wooyoung raises an eyebrow. or tries to, his face feels like a complete separate entity right now.

nichkhun shakes his head, "no, i mean. i mean it's easy to be around you even when you're not trying so hard to be nice, which you don't have to. i mean, i appreciate it, i really do. but i've been the new kid enough times already."

"doesn't make any sense," wooyoung shakes his head, and god _damn_ he needs to _not_ do that because he's going to puke if he keeps it up. it's all nichkhun's fault.

"we'll talk when you're sober," nichkhun says quietly.

"you sure? i mean," wooyoung chuckles—it sounds rather pathetic to his own ears, if he's honest, but since the only thing he can be right now is _drunk_ , he lets it pass—and tips his head back to the side again, his temple against the wall, "the longest conversation we've had so far is this one. doesn't leave room to much expectation, y'know."

the door creaks open before wooyoung can listen to anything nichkhun has to say to that, and when junho comes tumbling through it with, "fuck, wooyoung, i've been looking everywhere for you, i hate you so much right now, get the fuck up," nichkhun is nowhere in sight.

not that wooyoung is looking.

-

"i'm dead," wooyoung grits against his pillow. "i'm dead and this is hell, why the fuck is it so bright outside."

he hears junho chuckle from across the room, where wooyoung's desk is. "how's the head?"

wooyoung grunts. "don't yell, i'm right here."

"your mom left you some advil on the nightstand."

it takes wooyoung eight minutes to sit up and reach for the pills and the glass of water, junho times it. it takes another seven for him to put the glass down and hide under his blanket again. god, he was not made for hangovers.

"why are you here so early?" he groans after a while.

"it's not so early, it's almost three," junho laughs and wooyoung winces, does he have to be so loud and obnoxious?! " _and_ , nichkhun called and said you'd probably be feeling like shit."

wooyoung peeks from under his covers and frowns at junho. "nichkhun called you?"

"yes," junho says slowly, as if wooyoung were five (which he isn't, thank you very much, at least not _right now_ ), "he called. there's this thing, dunno if you've seen it, it's called _a phone_? and you like, tap shit into it, numbers? and then you tap some more and bahm, a _phone call_ , wooyoung, _who knew?!_ "

"hate you," wooyoung groans, and pulls the blanket over his head again.

-

come monday morning, wooyoung isn't feeling as shitty as he did through saturday and sunday morning, but it's close. he's a lightweight, what you gon' do, yadda yadda. first period is as boring as ever, but finals are close and if he wants to keep the captain band, his grades can't slip. so, he takes notes and pays attention and definitely does _not_ steal glances at nichkhun sitting on the row before his.

he _doesn't_.

by lunch time, junho's stuck in hockey practice and wooyoung sits alone at their usual table, poking at his tuna salad sandwich without actually meaning to eat it any time soon. he's about to stand and drop his food off when nichkhun slides into the chair opposite his and eyes him warily.

"why aren't you eating?" he asks.

"why are you _talking_ to me?" wooyoung retorts.

nichkhun rolls his eyes. it looks kind of fond, though, which, _weird_. "s'what friends do, isn't it?"

"oh, so we're friends now," wooyoung widens his eyes.

"not unless you don't want us to," nichkhun deadpans.

wooyoung frowns. "okay, this is gonna give me a headache. so, what happened? what made you realize i am, indeed, aiming to be _friendly_."

nichkhun's eyes spark with amusement. "you don't remember saturday night, then?"

"oh i do," wooyoung declares, pointing at him with his fork, "not the whole thing because taecyeon was out to poison me, but i remember a few things. doesn't mean you'd actually act on your words and _talk_ to me."

"i meant it when i said i appreciate you being nice and friendly," nichkhun says and whoa, way to cut to the chase. "and i apologize if i gave off the impression i didn't like you."

"so you do like me," wooyoung squints his eyes.

nichkhun shrugs, nonchalant, but his eyes are a totally different story, oh yes, wooyoung can _see_ the mirth in them. "you're okay, i guess."

-

"he _likes_ you," junho says, pointing a dirty finger at wooyoung's face, his tone accusing and superior only the way junho manages to pull off, the little shit he is. "he _likes_ likes you, doesn't he?"

"he does not," wooyoung makes a face, and throws the controller at him.

"and _you_ like him, too," junho crows, and then, "hah, i beat your ass yet _again_ , jang wooyoung, who's your fucking daddy now, huh?!"

" _language!_ " junho's mom calls from the kitchen.

"sorry, mom!"

"i don't like him," wooyoung says, taking the controller again and kicking at junho's leg. "not like _that_. and _he_ doesn't like me and  _definitely_ not like _that_."

"dude," junho rolls his eyes as the game starts again, "you weren't there that night, okay."

wooyoung turns to look at him, scandalized. "of course i was, what the f—fork?!"

junho waves the controller around, "you weren't _conscious_ , you didn't _see_ the way he looked at you when i was dragging your sorry ass to my car! he was worried _sick_ , i thought he was gonna ask to hop in as well just to make sure you got home safe and sound, which you were _going to_ had you not puked all over."

"you're a lying liar who lies," wooyoung squints his eyes.

"i am not such thing," junho tilts his chin upwards, and it reminds wooyoung _a whole lot_ of nichkhun. he wonders if junho and nichkhun spend time together when wooyoung isn't looking and it makes him feel a bit queasy. "truer words have never left my mouth."

"i hate you," wooyoung mumbles, and on the screen, his character aims a kick at junho's head.

"is that you admitting you like nichkhun?"

"this is a jedi mind trick, isn't it?" wooyoung groans.

junho smiles and kicks a foot out, drops it on wooyoung's lap. "you know i do it because i care. you're still going down, though, you bitch, my five year old nephew plays better than you."

" _language, damn it!_ " calls junho's mom again.

-

finals week is a _mess_. it's horrible and despicable and it involves two panic attacks in the men's room and biblical amounts of coffee. wooyoung manages to get only one b plus, which is _good, fuck so good_ , and it means he can play next season _and_ keep his captain band and that's just great, really.

really, really great. great enough to attend another of taecyeon's parties where no alcohol is ever actually _seen_ but some gardens would like to disagree.

wooyoung stays true to his last hangover-induced resolution, though, he doesn't drink. much. one beer won't hurt. except one becomes two and before he knows it, he's maybe in between ten and eleven, but it's really a matter of perspectives on whether the glass is half empty or half full.

he's a bit loose and relaxed when he finds nichkhun so it's no wonder what happens next.

"nichkhuuuuuuuuuuuuuun," he cries, and throws an arm around his shoulders, "where have you been all night?!"

nichkhun rolls his eyes but his lips tug upwards and hah! wooyoung's totally won this round. "i've been right here, actually." (and wooyoung knows this is true, not because he's been, like, _stalking_ nichkhun but because he's a very observant guy, yes. besides, this actually is the only place to hang out without getting girls on their laps or beer on their shirts or worse, loud shrieking in their ears.)

"i'd introduce you to people but you asked me not to be friendly so i won't," wooyoung nods solemnly as he waves around the kitchen and pats his chest, "i promised i wouldn't, jang wooyoung keeps his promises."

"alright," nichkhun says, and smiles like he can't help it, peering at the glass that's shoved up against his face since wooyoung's holding it with the arm he's got around nichkhun's shoulders. "shouldn't be drinking so much, don't you think?"

wooyoung looks at his glass and nods again, "this is the last one, i promise."

"i'll hold you to that," nichkhun says very seriously, and steps a bit to the side so wooyoung's left with no choice but to take his arm back. nichkhun shoves his hands into his pants' pockets, "so, how was it, the exams?"

"hell," wooyoung answers easily, and leans against the fridge, shrugging. "made it through, though, or else i can't play and that sucks. you?"

nichkhun nods. "same. i actually wanna stay on the team."

"aw," wooyoung coos, and nudges nichkhun lightly in the side, "you love us, don't you?"

"you lot are okay, i guess," nichkhun concedes with a nod of his head, and wooyoung laughs.

"you taking the piss at me, aren't you?" he asks.

nichkhun rolls his eyes. "i have no idea what you're talking about this time."

"junho is my best friend," wooyoung says, grinning, "when i introduced you guys and i said _he's okay_ what i actually meant was _i would be dead in a sewer if it weren't for him_. but don't tell him i said that, he's too smug as it is already."

"so?" nichkhun looks way too smug himself for this conversation, and if someone asks wooyoung, it's completely misplaced— _he's_ the one who should be smug, not nichkhun.

"so," wooyoung rolls his eyes, "if you keep saying 'oh, he's okay, _you're_ okay', i'll start believing you actually love us very much and appreciate us more than words can even begin to describe, nichkhun."

"if the shoe fits," nichkhun says, full-out grinning now, and _oh_.

wooyoung wrinkles his nose. "is this a jedi mind trick? god, you're spending way too much time with junho."

nichkhun grins. "there's plenty of me for you, too, don't worry."

"oh, _lord_ , of all the things to pick up from that little shit you decide to get some of his _smugness_?! unholy! we need to get drunk, come on."

-

"i like you," wooyoung says. slurs. honestly? he's trying to _communicate_ here.

nichkhun throws his head back and laughs, open and honest, and yeah, wooyoung likes him, it's been decided. "i like you, too," nichkhun says, grinning, and nudges wooyoung, holding a red cup of god knows what close to his chest, "but i like this better, though, it keeps me _warm_."

wooyoung laughs—sounds a bit like a hyena to his own ears—and slams his fist on the counter where they're currently becoming best drinking buddies. it's a step higher than what-the-fuck-are-we-honestly and that's good in wooyoung's book, very good.

"so if i kept you warm would you like me better?"

nichkhun frowns and then blinks his eyes open, nodding. "quite possible, yeah."

"well _good_ because i have _ways_ , i'll have you know," wooyoung shakes a finger at him, squinting eyes. "ways i only use with people i _like_."

nichkhun grins at him and puts the cup down on the table, throws an arm around wooyoung's shoulder and squeezes when they're pressed side by side. wooyoung leans in for a bit and gets a whiff of lemon detergent and the aftershave nichkhun must wear every day. it smells like sweat too, but not like after-practice, more like right-now, and it's a bit spicy and a lot _nice_ and—

"so you like me?"

wooyoung frowns and pulls away, staring at nichkhun's eyes. they're _there_ this time. good. "didn't i just admit i do? are you _drunk_?"

insane how the both of them giggle _at the same time_ and still make it look _very_ manly. nichkhun puts a hand over his mouth and mumbles something wooyoung can't catch. he swats at nichkhun's hand with his own and pouts.

"mumbling is rude," he sniffs. except his body isn't entirely his when he's drunk so he ends up making a pitiful sound at the back of his throat while his lips smack rather loudly together.

"i said i like you, too."

wooyoung blinks in surprise and grins back sloppily when nichkhun's eyes crinkle at the edges. "well i like you as well."

"we established that already, yes," nichkhun nods, and laughs deeply.

wooyoung likes the sound of it. he really, really does.

-

when he wakes up, there's a mop of hair stuck to his tongue. this mop of hair belongs to a head wooyoung currently has tucked under his chin. said head is attached to a body wooyoung is clinging to and that's where the whole thing just goes _wrong_. not to mention they're lying on an air mattress in—is this taecyeon's kitchen? that ugly cat drawing stuck to the fridge looks oddly familiar. craning his neck a bit to get a glimpse around, he spots junho passed  out on top the counter. the microwave's clock reads 4:14 and wooyoung is definitely not awake enough for this.

"oh my _god_ ," he mumbles, and bile rises up his throat when his tongue feels as sandpaper around his mouth. "oh my _god_."

"shut up, wooyoung." the body wooyoung is still draped over for reasons unbeknown to him stirs; wooyoung literally feels those words muffled against the skin of his neck. the voice, although raspy and hoarse, is really familiar.

"nichkhun?" he prods at the body in the arm, pulling away a little so he can get something other than brown hair in his eyes.

"what, god, why are you yelling," the body hisses, and yes, that's definitely nichkhun. wooyoung can _feel_ the frown his eyebrows are contorting themselves into.

"ugh, fine, go back to sleep, you mean drunktard, i hate you," wooyoung mumbles under his breath, and huffs when nichkhun actually cuddles closer and presses his nose just over his collarbones.

"not what you said last night," nichkhun slurs, and wooyoung opens and closes his mouth uselessly for a whole ten seconds before nichkhun takes pity on him and lets out a loud sigh. "joke, wooyoung. i didn't take your flower while you weren't looking."

"how honorable of you," wooyoung says tartly.

nichkhun hums. "i'm honorable man, yes. now please go back to sleep."

"you're lucky i like you," wooyoung purses his lips, and nichkhun smiles into his neck.

"fucking finally," junho groans from the counter, throwing an arm over his eyes as he rolls to lie on his back, his legs dangling off the edge. "now shut the fuck up or so help me god."

"jedi mind trick?" wooyoung frowns up at him.

junho throws a shoe at him but misses by a mile. nichkhun laughs, his whole body shaking with it, and he presses his lips faintly to the side of wooyoung's neck, soft and feather-like.


End file.
